


I'm in a little bit of trouble and I'm in real deep

by acetheticallyy (jacquesdernier)



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 07:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4470713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacquesdernier/pseuds/acetheticallyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe there was some sort of stock in kissing an injury to make it better. It certainly felt like it worked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm in a little bit of trouble and I'm in real deep

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. this is 100% the most self-indulgent piece of fic I have ever written okay the idea popped it's way into my head and I thought it was cute and I rolled with it and this happened
> 
> 2\. title taken from the song "that man" by caro emerald bc I've been listening to that song on loop for the past three days now and I couldn't resist using it for a title
> 
> 3\. as always no disrespect is meant through this fic and everything written is based solely upon the actors' portrayals of the men and not the men themselves

It was just a simple reflex. A bullet would graze a man's leg and he would bandage it up and press his lips gently against the cloth for a brief moment before he ran off to the next man who yelled for a medic. Someone would break a bone in their hand, and he would drop a quick kiss to the space that hurt before wrapping up the hand to hold the bone in place. Eugene didn't think much of it. It was something his grandmother had always done and it had now become something he did as well.

The men, at first, they thought it was weird. The first couple times it had happened, they would stare after him, dazed as he ran off to the other men who needed his help. After a while they just chalked it up to "Doc being Doc" and began to expect it, even began to look at it as a source of comfort. Maybe there was some sort of stock in kissing an injury to make it better. It certainly felt like it worked.

* * *

Sometimes it's easy to forget that the replacements are new to the company and aren't familiar with the way Roe handles injuries and therefore were not expecting to call for someone to tend to their wounds and end up with a grown ass man putting his lips on them, however innocently.

Babe's first interaction with Eugene occurs because when he gets out of his bed one morning, he bangs his head on the bed above his and ends up with a small gash on his forehead. He feels like an idiot when he seeks out Roe's help and tells him what happened, but Eugene just pulls some supplies out of his bag and waves him over.

It is one of those rare, blissful moments when nobody is shooting at them and everything is quiet and calm, and Roe takes his time cleaning out the wound and making sure the bleeding has stopped. Once Babe has been properly patched up, just as he turns to thank him, Eugene's lips land on his temple, right at the place he had busted his head open. Just as this happens, someone shouts "hey Roe!" and the medic is off without a glance behind him, as if nothing had happened. As if Babe didn't just have a grown ass man kiss his face.

He is confused for most of the day, and when he brings it up to Bill, the man just laughs and says, "oh, that's just Doc's way. You'll get used to it soon enough." Babe supposes that it's true, he will get used to it soon enough, but it's still odd, still leaves him with an odd, buzzing sensation under his skin whenever he thinks  about it. He's not sure what it is, but he thinks that it's not a bad thing. Just odd.

* * *

Babe avoids Roe for a while, just to see if the tingling sensation he gets whenever he thinks about it will fade (it doesn't). After a few days, he gives up, decides it's best to just accept it and move on. The next time he runs into Roe, he tries to just give him a nod and keep walking but then the medic calls after him and Babe has to turn around.

When he does turn, after mouthing a few curse words, he finds the doc looking at him with mild curiosity. "How's your head?" Roe asks.

Babe is very much relieved that it's all he wanted to say and so he says, "yeah, all fine," and makes a move to keep walking. Roe sidesteps in front of him before he can get anywhere.

"Mind if I take a look?" He gives Babe no time to refuse and runs his fingers gently along the place where Babe's head had split open and the small wound is fading quite nicely. "Gotta make sure you didn't get it infected or nothin'."

That was probably meant as an insult, and Babe would probably argue, too, if he wasn't so sure that his brain had just short circuited. Roe's hands were warm and slightly calloused and his fingers were so gentle as they inspected his forehead that Babe found he had a hard time thinking of anything else. Even as Roe pronounced him okay and walked off, Babe was still standing there in the barracks like an idiot, reveling in the sensation of the doc's careful hands running along his forehead and completely without a clue as to where he had been going prior to this moment. Eventually he snaps out of it and walks off, fingers brushing over the healing injury on his forehead, remembering that he has somewhere to be.

He decides that probably he shouldn't tell Bill about this one, because he knows that a medic checking up on his men was absolutely expected and reasonable and that Babe is likely the only person being weird in this situation. Tingling skin and fuzzy insides are two very not normal things to experience in relation to one's medic, and so Babe will keep that much to himself.

It's still not a bad feeling, he thinks. It's a little odd, and a little different, but it's not bad. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, even though he's very much frustrated that he doesn't quite know what the feelings mean, maybe they're good feelings.

* * *

He can't resist bringing it up to Bill, in the end. He keeps it vague, though, and one night when Babe comes back from outpost duty he seeks out his friend and asks him "you ever feel weird when Roe does that thing?"

"Huh?" It takes Bill a minute to get what Babe is saying, but once he does he just shakes his head. "Nah, it don't even register no more, really. Was quite the shock  at first, but that's just what he does. After a while it starts to feel weird when he doesn't. Listen, if it bothers ya I'm sure he'll back off if you tell him, he's a good guy."

"Nah, it's nothing like that." Babe wonders why he even brought it up in the first place, knows it was a stupid idea. "Guess I'm just not used to it yet." Bill gives him a slap on the back and runs off to take care of one thing or another and Babe thinks  _the problem isn't that it bothers me, it's that I think I might like it too much_.

* * *

Babe does his best to stay uninjured so he doesn't have to deal with it again, because he knows at this point that the tingling feeling he gets and the way he can still feel Roe's fingers gently running along his forehead is something that not everybody experiences and he's nervous about where it might go. He knew it almost positively after the first time it happened, but when Babe jams his thumb in his rifle and slices through some of the skin there, Roe wraps it up and presses his lips lightly against it and walks of and Babe knows for certain that he is fucked.

He manages to remain uninjured for a long time and he's proud of himself for that but then Bastogne happens and Julian is gone and Babe decides that he no longer gives a shit. Maybe it's wrong to think about another man in that way, but he's in the middle of a forest in subzero temperatures and his feet haven't been dry for weeks and his friends are dying and he  _doesn't care anymore_. He wants to feel good about something, wants to feel anything other than cold and misery for once, and if he can find that in Eugene, then so be it.

So when Eugene comes after him when Julian is gone and presses himself against Babe's side and offers him chocolate (the good kind, and god only knows where he got  _that_ ), Babe welcomes him in. He stops calling him Doc or Roe in his head, thinks of him simply as Gene, and feels a wave of calm wash over him whenever their limbs brush together. It feels nice, he thinks. And he doesn't care.

* * *

Babe seeks Gene out a lot after his revelation, finds himself searching for the red cross that stands out starkly in the snow that surrounds them in Bastogne, making sure he's there and just finding comfort in his proximity. There is a shift in Eugene though, he thinks, one that clicked into place after spending so long in  such a cold, bleak place where everyone was stretched thin and at their wit's end. Babe supposes he should have expected this to happen sooner or later, everyone had their limits, but he never considered the possibility that it could ever happen to Eugene.

Eugene Roe was always a warm presence. His voice brought comfort, his words convinced you, you knew he'd be there when you needed him. The same is true now, but he is more inside of his own head than ever. Now, he resembles Bastogne personified. He is still warm when you need him, still comforting when the situation calls for it, but by himself he looks frozen. And he does that a lot, keeps to himself, stays on the fringes of any one group instead of being in them, laughing to himself when one of the men makes a joke instead of laughing along  _with_ them.

It is understandable, Babe thinks--figures it must be hard on Gene most of all when someone dies because it is his job to keep them safe and living. Bastogne is the worst place they've been to, is lacking provisions and overflowing with casualties, and that probably makes it even harder for Eugene to handle. So Babe understands, he does, he gets why Eugene is suddenly so detached, but he's also smart enough to know that distancing himself isn't doing Gene any good, either, is probably even having the opposite effect he wants it to have. Babe figures that if he's going to keep seeking comfort from Eugene while everything all goes to hell, the least he can do is give some back in return.

He talks to him, sometimes. Pulls him into conversation when he can, for however long it lasts, asks him how he's doing when he makes his rounds, makes sure he at least gets food, even if he only ever picks at it for a few minutes before running out again. A time or two, Babe even comes up with a question about the best way to treat a chest wound or some other such technical question; anything that will get him talking for a while and keep him from retreating into himself. It isn't a significant change, but sometimes Babe can see that Eugene's eyes are a little brighter, and there is a little more life in his step.

It is probably not the same sort of comfort Babe gets from him, is more than likely never accompanied by a buzzing underneath his skin or a wave of blissful calm, but it is enough. Babe will take what he can get.

* * *

When they make it out of Bastogne there is a little more color in Gene's face, a little more life there. He doesn't look nearly as strung out as he was, even though there are still a few stress lines around the corners of his mouth and across his forehead. Probably getting out of that hellhole is the primary reason Eugene looks like he's doing so much better, but Babe can't help but give himself at least half of the credit.

There is a moment after Bastogne, where they are sent on a patrol that they have no business being on, a point that is made clear when they come back with one less man ( _but with a handful of prisoners, so that makes up for it, right? That's more than enough to replace him,_ right _?_ Babe thinks bitterly the whole way back). Gene has that look creeping back into his eyes again, the worry lines on his face becoming deeper until they look like they have been carved into his skin permanently. And this time, Babe isn't sure what to do about it. Because now, this time, they are in a warm, somewhat clean home, relatively safe from the enemy, or at least safer than they had been. Now, there is plenty of food and showers and beds with fresh sheets. Now, he is out of mundane questions to ask and there are no foxholes to make the rounds on.

But it hurts, Babe knows it hurts, can see it in Eugene's eyes the whole way back to the rest of the company, and he's not sure what to do about it. Except when they finally make it back and Babe almost smacks his head on one of the beams in the ceiling, he remembers. He remembers his first interaction with Gene and then he knows. It's not the same kind of hurt, not at all, but Babe figures it at least can't make it any worse.

So he seeks him out, finds Eugene sitting on the edge of a bed in a room in the building across from where Babe himself is staying, and he's just staring. It scares Babe a little, especially when he doesn't move after Babe clears his throat, shows no recognition at all.

"Hey Eugene." He stirs at that, turns to face Babe and manages a weak smile.

"Heffron," he says, and his voice is rough, not at all like it was a few days ago. "You okay?"

Babe shakes his head, thinks it's ridiculous that Eugene is still looking after others when he's clearly feeling like shit. "Yeah, I'm...I'm alright. How are you, Gene?"

Eugene looks at him, brow furrowed like he's confused. "Yeah, m'fine."

"Bullshit." Babe is kind of tired of people pretending they're fine when they so very clearly are not. "C'mon Gene, you ain't been alright since before they told us to hold the line in that godforsaken forest. You were gettin' there for a while, but now...now you're back to the same." He sits next to Eugene on the edge of the bed, makes sure he's sitting close enough that their legs touch the slightest bit at the thigh.

"Ain't your job to take care of me, Edward, I'll be okay."

 _Goddamn, self-sacrificing, only-thinks-about-everyone-else, bastard_ , Babe thinks. It should be infuriating, and it is. But is also just a touch endearing.

Babe rolls his eyes, holds Eugene's face stationary with one hand and now the lines on his forehead are even deeper, creating trenches in his skin. He adjusts so he is facing Babe head-on, no longer on the very edge of the thin mattress and Babe leans forward until his lips land softly between Eugene's eyebrows, where it looks like he's holding the most tension. It lasts a little longer than is probably strictly necessary, definitely too long to be considered just a friendly, comforting gesture, and Babe thinks probably that it doesn't matter because it's not like he means it in a strictly platonic way anyhow.

He pulls back, smooth out the skin there with his thumb until there are only faint lines where the tension used to be. Babe drops his hand but not his gaze. There is a sort of pull there, a palpable ache, and the tingling feeling in his skin is back and this time it's all over, not just where they are touching. There is the sound of a shell whistling overhead and the pull snaps like a cheap rubber band.

"Better make sure no one got hurt." There is a slightly less rough quality to Gene's voice as he says this and Babe figures it's a start. Eugene leaves the room without looking back.

It's not the first time this has happened.

* * *

The first time is when they are in the earthly equivalent of the ninth circle of hell: practically frozen, definitely hungry, and most of all desperate to get the hell out of there. It is near the end of their time there, thank god, Babe doesn't think he could believe it happened if it had occurred in the middle of everything, and Babe is trying to get his hand to stop bleeding. It bleeds slowly but he still thinks that he should minimize the blood loss to the best of his ability.

He's just about ready to rip his scarf off and use that to stop the blood from trickling over his palm when he feels someone slide in next to him in his foxhole. It only registers long enough to get him to bring his focus back for a few short seconds before he is back to watching his palm turn dark red. He hears the person next to him call his name and he turns to look at them, notices it's Eugene and his side starts tingling again. Babe would find it pathetic if he wasn't too busy wondering why the hell his hand insisted on leaking blood when the injury isn't even that deep in the first place and it's not like it's flowing fast enough to be a problem. It's stuck right in the middle and it's annoying as all hell.

Babe tells Eugene it's his fault, Eugene tells Babe he can fix it, Babe makes fun of the way his own name sounds in Eugene's thick accent, and Eugene wraps Babe's hand tightly with a worn blue strip of fabric from his pocket. When Eugene brings Babe's palm to his lips, he lingers there with his mouth against Babe's palm for what feels like an eternity and is at the same time not nearly long enough. Gene lowers Babe's hand, but does not remove his own as he looks at babe from beneath his lashes.

They stay like that for a while, looking at each other, hands loosely held together, until there is a shout in the distance and the connection is ruined as they realize that they are not actually alone out there, no matter how isolated it appears.

* * *

Babe figures that two instances like that occurring fairly close together is no coincidence. He is confident in his belief that the pull he felt was not only on his side and decides that maybe he's going to do something about it. He anticipates it to be some grand thing, something significant and heartfelt. That's not what happens at all.

* * *

What does happen is this:

The war is over and Babe is pretty drunk, enough that his laugh comes more freely and he's hugging everyone like it's Christmas at his grandmother's place. Drunk enough that he stumbles on a couple stairsteps and splits his lip on the way down. It's not very dignified, but he's so happy to be finished fighting that he just doesn't care. There is a slightly metallic taste in his mouth now, though, and it's kind of ruining the pleasantness of the champagne he's holding, so he figures he should probably find something to hold against his mouth for a minute, just so it doesn't taste like he's drinking rusty alcohol.

He's walking around for he doesn't know how long, trying to find a...what was it again? Ah, forget it. He enters a building, rifles around through a drawer in one of the rooms, hoping he'll remember what he was looking for if he sees it.

Babe hears something in the room shift, barely registers it until he hears someone clearing their throat. When he turns to look, he finds Eugene standing in the doorway and immediately forgets that he was supposed to be looking for something important.

"Malarkey tells me you fell," Gene says, walking into the room. "Why don't you sit down, okay?" Babe is all too happy to do just that--the room is spinning just a little, enough for his balance to be affected--and hops on top of the desk he had been rifling through earlier. He thinks Eugene looks just a touch amused when he walks over to get a better look at him. Babe thinks it's a good look for him.

Eugene takes a hold of Babe's chin, turns it a little to inspect his jaw, and doesn't let go when he declares that nothing is broken or bruised and that all Babe has is a small cut on his lower lip that should probably heal up within the week. Babe barely hears anything he says, is concentrated mostly on the hand softly holding his chin. His head is still a little fuzzy, but much clearer than it was before and he has the presence of mind to hesitate before he decides that now is probably the best time he's going to have to make a move.

"Just a split lip, huh?" he asks. "What can you do for that?" Gene says nothing, just looks at him until he starts swaying forward slightly and finally, blessedly, their lips connect.


End file.
